I'll Keep It A Secret Until It's Old News
by MintSauce
Summary: Part two of my All The Ways Mandy Finds Out series. It all starts because Lip's drunk in a way that means he hasn't got a clue what he's saying.


**Pretend like Terry never walked in on them fucking and they had a perfect sleep over and everything was all smiles and kisses and lovely moments…. Okay?**

It starts because Lip is pissed out of his mind in a way that means he's never going to remember what he's said or done the next morning, no way. And that much is made doubly obviously – like she didn't already know – by the way that he just smiles in the morning and kisses her cheek like nothing ever happened. Like he didn't flip her entire world upside down in a way that is partly her feeling like it is in no way possible what he told her and partly her feeling like on some level she should have already known.

"Hey, where's Ian?" she asked him, feeling a little bad that he was her best friend and she didn't know the answer herself, "Not fucking some grandpa, is he?"

Lip snorted, head lolling to the side like a puppet who's strings had been cut. "Nah, he prefers ex-cons remember, maybe it's the finger tats," Lip told her, his words clear in that way they always were no matter how much he drank, still it was the faraway look in his eyes and the dopey expression on his face that was the give away, "Don't see why the fuck Mickey thought they were a good idea."

And Mandy wants to shake him and make him explain, because _hold on what_? Except, he's already snoring against her shoulder and she just knows that she won't get anything even mildly coherent out of him now.

Plus, all she can think is: _Mickey? What?_

And Mandy isn't stupid, despite popular opinion. So she knows for sure what was just implied. She just has no clue if she believes it or not. Because it's a bit of a thing to suddenly know for sure whether or not you believe; because never for a moment did it ever cross her mind that Mickey could be anything but straight. He'd never even once done anything to make her think he was gay.

Yet, all those questions Ian asked her about Mickey made sense now. The fact she knew that Ian sometimes willingly hung out with her brother – and hell visa-versa, because Mickey's never had _friends_ before in his life – when no one else would. That all made sense, kind of.

So shouldn't it have been obvious? Watching them over the next few days she thinks that it should have been.

It's like how Mickey will get Ian a beer when he goes to get himself a new one even though when Lip asks for one he flips him off. It's in the secret looks they seem to share, like they're both in on some sort of joke. It's how long Ian spends in the bathroom and the way Mickey will rest his foot against Ian's thigh when he hates touching people for no good reason. It's in how Mickey doesn't even blink at walking into the house to see Ian eating a pot of Jell-O from his private stash, the one that's labelled with Mickey's name and everything; even though he threatened to cut Mandy's tit off should she ever even think about touching them.

And Mandy realises, she fucking works out what should have been obvious. And a part of her wants to be pissed that they didn't tell her, that her fake-boyfriend is fucking her brother and an even bigger part of her wants to let them know that she knows.

Except, she keeps her mouth shut and just smirks when Ian comes out of the bathroom after twenty minutes and smiles knowingly when Mickey lets Ian drink the last beer without complaining even though he'd just said he was thirsty for another. Because Mandy isn't stupid and she knows that letting them know that she's in on their little secret will do more harm than good, she _knows_ that for sure.

And when she finally walks into the Gallagher house and sees Mickey pressing Ian against the wall, their mouths melded together and Mickey's hands under Ian's shirt, she just snorts and rolls her eyes at the panicked looks on both of their faces.

Then she goes and gets herself a can of coke, because she's known for eight months now and this is old news. _Jesus, when were they going to realise_.


End file.
